


heart swells like water

by Del (goddessdel)



Category: Doctor Who & Related Fandoms, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Episode: s06e02 Day of the Moon, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-22
Updated: 2014-10-22
Packaged: 2018-02-22 03:45:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,536
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2493233
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goddessdel/pseuds/Del
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He's practically giddy as he races down to the pool. After those interminable months of just sitting, doing nothing, the Doctor feels as though he might explode, full of energy. He shoos a baffled Amy and Rory back to the console room to entertain Canton and grabs the biggest, fluffiest towel he can find.</p>
            </blockquote>





	heart swells like water

**Author's Note:**

  * For [areyoumarriedriver](https://archiveofourown.org/users/areyoumarriedriver/gifts), [mygalfriday (BrinneyFriday)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BrinneyFriday/gifts).



> Written: 7/12/14-8/30/14
> 
> Timeline: DotM
> 
> Title modified from "Hardest of Hearts" by Florence + the Machine.
> 
> All dialogue you recognize comes from "Day of the Moon".
> 
> Thanks to Becs for looking this over through all four(!) iterations. This one got a bit away from me (and a bit bigger with each version), but hopefully it's worth the wait.
> 
> I offer this up as happy belated birthday smut for Charina and Pam.

He's practically giddy as he races down to the pool. After those interminable months of just sitting, doing nothing, the Doctor feels as though he might explode, full of energy. He shoos a baffled Amy and Rory back to the console room to entertain Canton and grabs the biggest, fluffiest towel he can find.

 

And there is River Song, surfacing in his pool and gliding to the edge in a few powerful strokes as though it is nothing. As though it is every day that she dives off buildings and he catches her with open doors and arms. Maybe, someday, he does.

 

River slides out of the water like she was made for it, pushing herself up over the ledge easily and coming to stand, dripping, in front of him. Her shoes, purse and sharpie float away, abandoned in the pool. Her hair is soaking, but the pins seem to have held it up mostly, despite her high velocity dive. Her dress sparkles, wet and sleek like literal gold, clinging to her as though it is a second skin.

  
The Doctor swallows hard, but he cannot tear his eyes away from River's curves in that dress. He thinks, in one wild moment, that it might be his favorite dress in the whole of creation.

 

River grins at him, and it is genuine, if a bit wicked. "Hello, sweetie." She turns her back. "Zip."

 

She stands there, expectant, and it takes the Doctor a moment to realize what she means, too distracted by the vision of her bum encased in that same sleek gold. She's got to be wet and cold, and here he is ogling her, when he should be helping. Helping. Right. He can do that.

 

The Doctor finds himself drawn forward, hypnotized by her gold-slicked form, his hands reaching for her zip. He drags it down her spine to reveal nothing but the smooth, honeyed tones of her skin, soft against his fingertips. A jolt of electricity zings through him at that first touch, burning in its intensity. River makes a soft sighing sound, deep and pleased, and that coils through him as well, settling low in his belly with a raw intensity that he's not certain he's ever experienced before - not anything like this desperate, tugging need. If his fingers shake, it is because he is caught between the urge to pull back and run and to let his hands linger, pressed against all that enticing skin.

 

He does step back, his limbs fidgeting with excess energy that is rapidly turning into something else altogether as he holds out the towel helplessly. He should go, he thinks wildly, right now. He should turn and he should let her finish changing and he should -

 

River shrugs her shoulders delicately and her dress slips completely off to puddle at her feet. The Doctor is struck dumb by the sight of her. Normally he'd cover his eyes and blush, but he can't even manage that. Oh, he's had dreams about her body; filthy, aching dreams - the kind that he would normally never admit to, even to himself. It was worse, in the long hours and days and months in his incomplete cell, glimpses of those perfect curves in jodhpurs or jeans haunting him, imagining what they might look like underneath. Imagining what he would do if he ever got the chance to find out.

 

River delights in teasing him, but usually he's the one to initiate any contact - safe, above the neck kind of contact. At first he thinks this is the same teasing, only a bit more blatant - after all, he goes to church occasionally and she's a 51st century (perhaps) woman - and what's skin but another type of clothing, really? When she turns and brings his hands to her hips, any thought of running evaporates. He could no more remove his hands than he could turn into a toad. Which is really a terrible metaphor, but he's more than a bit distracted at the moment.

 

She's more glorious than his wildest imagination. Even soaking wet, with smudges of sharpie lining her arms and her curls dampened and tamed by the water.

 

The towel falls from his hands, but River doesn't pay it any mind. "No snogging with that beard. I can't go back out and face... everyone... with mine burnt red."

 

The Doctor swallows hard, words suddenly having a difficult time forming in his head. No snogging. Well, that's - "Okay. That's okay." Except that implies that there's normally snogging. And that's suddenly all his considerable brain can focus on - the idea of kissing River Song. Of tasting her.

 

Apparently all the wild, bold mystery of her hair has migrated to the rest of her with its wetting because River just grins, walking him backward until he stumbles with a yelp into one of the long pool recliners. He hardly has time to be indignant before River is climbing over him. His clothing is absolutely filthy, befitting his supposed imprisonment, but River pays that no mind as she sits astride his lap

 

The water from her skin soaks quickly through his trousers and it should be uncomfortable but then River presses against him, right over his aching cock, and the Doctor feels a shiver of want run tingling through him. His hands move of their own accord, smoothing across her damp skin, tracing her tiny, tiny waist, counting her ribs and palming her breasts, his thumbs brushing over her hard nipples.

 

River shivers at the contact. "Missed you," she admits, her voice like raw spun silk.

 

"Is that why you jumped off a building, eh? Couldn't live without me?" He's teasing, but his voice comes out an octave lower than normal and it feels more like flirting. It feels like more than flirting. It's been a long time since he's felt this kind of pounding, demanding desire - certainly not in this body, at least. Not ever, he thinks; not like this. Oh, he's felt attraction and lust and want, but it's all been a bit human-y and something that he can easily turn off like a switch.

 

But River makes him feel in ways he didn't think were possible. There is no turning himself off. No stopping to check for danger - and River Song is dangerous, he has no doubt about that, with her spoilers for his future tied up with her own mysterious past. He shouldn't like that - really kinda does. More than likes - he wants her.

 

Right now.

 

"You always catch me," River promises, her voice hitching as his hands continue to stroke across her body, on display and pressed intimately over him.

 

"Of course I do," he huffs because the idea of not catching River stabs at him, a sharp pain digging into a closed door in his mind. He turns away from that door resolutely. "Though just how often do you make a habit of testing that?"

 

"Spoilers!" River smirks, the word coming out with the same low promise as always.

 

 _Don't worry. I'm quite the screamer. Now there's a spoiler for you._ He can hear her voice in his head, and suddenly he cannot wait a second longer to find out. The Doctor's hands drift lower until his fingers encounter the slick flesh between her legs. River's breath hitches and that only spurs on his determination. Every sound she makes heats his blood, but he wants to hear her scream. It's been a long time since he's done something like this, but it's not something one forgets.

 

The Doctor presses one finger inside her and curls it, the tight, hot silk of her pressing and clutching around it. This body has long fingers, and he presses against that perfect spot easily, delighting in River's moan, low and decadent. He wants to hear that sound again, he wants to feel River fall apart around him, he wants to hear her scream - he _wants_.

 

River rocks her hips against his hand, her own clutching his shoulders. "Oh god, sweetie, yes."

 

He adds a second finger, thrusting maybe a little too hard and fast in his eagerness. River's breath catches and he pauses, about to apologize, but then she squeezes around his fingers, a whimpering sound escaping her lips. So the Doctor does it again, driving his fingers into her in a steady, hard pace, curling them and listening to the keening sounds she makes every time he does. He lets his other hand wander her body, memorizing her all at once. He's almost thankful that he can't kiss her if it lets him watch her, like this - lets him etch every moment of this into his mind.

 

He brings his thumb up to rub at her clit as River grinds against his hand, moans spilling across her lips in increasing frequency as she praises him and curses him in equal measure. He varies the pressure and motion of his thumb and fingers until he finds the combination that makes her moan crack at the end. A few more strokes and River shudders and falls apart, her muscles clenching around his fingers as a new rush of wetness soaks him.

 

It's not enough.

 

The Doctor doesn't give her any time to come down, shifting until he can add a third finger into the slick heat of her, his thumb sliding away from her oversensitive clit. She shivers, but doesn't pull away or slap him, so he doesn't stop.

 

"That's it, River," he praises, shocked by how filthy her name sounds coming from his mouth. "That's my girl." He wants that too - for her to be his. Not in the future, but right here and right now.

 

She's already climbing back toward her next orgasm, her voice getting more ragged with each stroke of his fingers. The Doctor leans forward to wrap his mouth around her nipple, teasing the hard nub with his tongue. The beard must scratch or tickle because she starts in surprise, her hands tightening on his shoulders in warning, but he cannot resist this forbidden taste of her. They'll be the only ones to see any marks and, as he drags his beard across her chest to take the other nipple in her mouth, the sound River makes says she absolutely does not mind. He thinks River likes it a little rough, his bad, bad girl.

 

"Fuck, Doctor," she hisses, the curse sharp on her tongue.

 

He sucks and bites at her breasts, scruffing his beard along the sensitive skin quite deliberately, and grinding the heel of his hand against her clit in time with the thrust of his fingers. _Just a little more_. He's absolutely addicted to her. To the sounds she makes and the way she feels and how she takes everything he has to give.

 

He's forgotten, though, that River is always one step ahead of him. He's so wrapped up in the feel of her that he doesn't notice she's moved one hand until she undoes his zip and wraps it around his cock. Her small fingers blaze against his skin as she guides him out of his pants and strokes him with just the right amount of pressure.

 

The Doctor moans, releasing her breast to throw his head back, his whole mind narrowed to the sensations of River wrapped around his fingers and hers wrapped around his cock.

 

River shifts against him until her other hand closes over his wrist. He watches, pliant in her grip, as she pulls his fingers away from her sex and brings them up to her mouth, her lips closing over them and tongue wrapping obscenely around each digit as she hums and tastes herself.

 

It's almost too much. A strangled noise escapes his throat as he watches her suck at his fingers, feeling his cock swell in her sure grip.

 

River hums before releasing his hand with a wet pop, shifting up to her knees over him and sinking down onto his length. The wet, silken heat of her engulfs him until he is buried completely inside her. His hands clench at her hips, stilling her for just a moment while he adjusts to the unbearable bliss of her. Now that he's properly inside her, the Doctor thinks he might never want to be anywhere else.

 

River's hands card through his hair and down across his jaw, catching in his scraggly beard. "Doctor?"

 

Soothing the indents from his fingers at her hips, the Doctor slides his hands around her body to stroke her back, chuckling. "You just took my breath away for a moment there, dear."

 

"Oh, shut up," River rolls her eyes at that, even if her voice isn't as steady as normal.

 

But the Doctor rocks his hips experimentally, and then conversation is the last thing on his mind as pleasure scalds back along his nerves in a cacophony of bliss.

 

River moans and quickly takes over, lifting her hips until she's almost released him completely and he's whimpering at the loss, and then taking him back in so deep that they both gasp at the contact. Her rhythm is as hard and fast as he'd suspected it would be, her hands tugging at his hair in a way that is just painful enough to exponentially increase the pleasure everywhere else.

 

The Doctor drops his mouth back to her breasts, dragging his beard across her skin until it is red, his mouth and teeth deepening the marks as River keens and slides over him faster still.

 

He won't make it long, he knows, not with the feel of her wrapped around him, her inner muscles clenching at his cock with every movement of her powerful thighs. He thrusts up in counterpoint to her downward strokes, his hands finding their way back to her hips to pull her just a little harder and hold her just a little longer. He's so deep inside her with every stroke that it does steal his breath.

 

He moans around River's breast and the sound she makes is caught just on the edge of a scream before she swallows it back. Determined, the Doctor brings one hand back between her legs, fingers pressing firmly against the bundle of nerves there, sucking hard at her nipple as he does.

 

River screams, the sound low and torn from her throat and positively filthy.

  
The Doctor almost comes at the sound alone, tearing his mouth away from her breast to watch her as her voice hitches and cracks. "That's it, River. Come on. Scream for me."

 

She does, her screams echoing and ricocheting off the cavernous walls as they increase in pitch and volume. They're both trembling with the effort of every stroke, every thrust, her rhythm increasingly desperate and the Doctor's hips jerking into her until they both fall apart, shattered like her voice as she collapses over him, her walls squeezing him as he spills helplessly into her, mind going supernova blank.

 

His hearts are pounding so loudly that he swears he hears them quadruple in his ears, the lap of waves and hum of the TARDIS fading into a vague background buzzing.

 

The Doctor is still trying to decide if his entire body has just turned to jelly, or if he might ever be able to move again, as River sits up.

 

She climbs carefully off him, leaving him sighing at the loss of her, and stretches sinuously. Her hair has partially dried, frizzing out in a golden halo around her head from the pins it's constrained by. Her skin is flushed and scattered with marks that send a jolt of lust back to the Doctor's belly at the knowledge he put them there. River catches him watching her and winks. "I don't know about you, Doctor, but I need a shower. And you need a shave."

 

Glancing down, the Doctor has to admit that they both very much need a shower. He's still mostly dressed, his shirt spilling out of his opened trousers, but his clothes are worn and filthy from Area 51 and River. He doesn't even have his bowtie anymore. He's more than a little amazed that River let him anywhere near her in such a state.

 

"Shower, yes. Shave, no. There's an alien invasion to be stopped, River. No time to shave."

 

River huffs, "You just want to keep the beard because you like the marks it made." She smirks. "Well, come on then, Doctor. If we're quick enough tidying up, I might just let you add a few more to the collection."

 

The Doctor is up like a shot, shoving his braces off and undoing his shirt before grabbing River's hand to drag her into the changing rooms with him. "Count on it, River Song," he promises, feeling bold.

 

They take a long shower, only the briefest time devoted to washing up, before chucking their clothes into the laundry and dashing naked to the wardrobe to change.

 

River insists on letting her hair air-dry, giving the Doctor a look that suggests she thinks he's mad for even daring to suggest otherwise as she scrunches it carefully with a towel. She drags on a more modestly cut dress with a knowing look and helps him with his bowtie.

 

The Doctor forces himself to focus on the problem at hand - alien invasion - and not what River's bare skin looks like under that outfit. The second they enter the console room, the Doctor starts talking, hoping to distract from how long it took them both to shower and change. After all, they _are_ in the middle of fighting an alien invasion. "So. We know they're everywhere. Not just a landing party, an occupying force. And they've been here a very long time. But nobody knows that, because no one can remember them."

 

He starts entering coordinates, mind racing, as River trails behind him - probably _adjusting_ things that don't need it, like the blue boringers.

 

Amy is frowning at them, but she's a bit distracted herself and Rory's drifted too near River for Amy to share any suspicions with him. It's Canton who, thankfully, asks the obvious, "So, what are they up to?"

 

"No idea." The Doctor catches River's smug grin, mind already racing with a _plan-in-progress_. "But the good news is we've got a secret weapon."

 

He throws open the doors and leads them all outside the Kennedy Space Center to demonstrate his plan in the most grandiose way he can imagine on short notice.

 

He doesn't get quite the response he was hoping for, the others just staring at him and waiting for him to explain. Except River. She looks as confused as the others, but he knows she's either already figured it out or is about to. She's standing right next to him, water from her hair splashing him as she dries it. He tries to remember to keep a respectable distance, and isn't entirely certain whether or not he succeeds.

 

"Apollo 11's your secret weapon?" And he is probably the only one who hears the innuendo in her phrasing.

 

The Doctor grins. He thinks he's impressed River, in more ways than one. He can't resist teasing her, trying to find out how much she knows. "No, no. It's not Apollo 11. That would be silly. It's Neil Armstrong's foot."

 

...

 

After he's been properly impressive and mysterious about Apollo 11 (though really, it's a bit of a genius plan, if he does say so himself, especially considering his mind was mostly working on it subconsciously), the Doctor decides he had better shave after all. The beard had certainly proved unexpectedly useful, but he just doesn't feel like the Doctor with it on.

 

Amy and Rory have already cleaned off their sharpie marks, though they continue to wear the pens around their necks as though The Silence might somehow get into his TARDIS, which is ridiculous and, actually, might not be a bad idea.

 

The Doctor scratches at his beard nervously as he sets coordinates, wondering if any of them have figured it out yet. He doesn't think so. Or, if they have, they've forgotten. He really needs to do something about that - something far more eloquent than sharpies.

 

Amy and Rory are awkwardly hovering near each other without having to be near each other, and he really needs to see how Amy is holding up. But he can't do anything while her and Rory are all caught up in whatever has been going on with them over the last three months.

 

"I think I need a shave," the Doctor announces broadly to the room, watching River out of the corner of his eye and deliberately echoing her suggestion from earlier, hoping she'll take him up on it.

 

Rory and Canton ignore him after a brief shrug of confusion, but Amy stares, eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Why didn’t you shave when you changed?"

 

The Doctor fights against a blush and keeps his eyes anywhere but on River. He fidgets, tugging at his beard again. "Have you ever tried to change and shave at the same time, Amelia Pond? It's dangerous."

 

Amy mutters something that sounds like _you were gone long enough_ , but River saves him further explanation. "Bless, it takes him so long to decide on a bowtie, he probably forgot he'd meant to shave as well. Go on then, Doctor. Do try not to cut yourself." She smirks at him and then turns conspiratorially to Amy, "If he keeps it any longer he'll probably decide he likes it after all."

 

The look of horror on Amy's face inspires River's laughter, even as the Doctor feigns offense. Amy recovers admirably quickly though, teasing out the pertinent information from River's deflection. "Familiar with how long it takes the Doctor to get dressed, then?"

 

"Spoilers!" River calls out cheerfully as the Doctor makes his escape before Amy remembers her original line of questioning.

 

The _plan-in-progress_ forms into a fully-fledged _plan_ while he shaves and by the time he's back in the console room, he feels like showing off just a bit more. Especially when River is watching him assemble the nanorecorder as she flies his ship, looking entirely too smug.

 

He injects Canton first because Canton is the most likely to hold them up asking questions and because he's the newest companion. There's an order to such things, after all. "Let me see your hand for a mo'. Won't hurt a bit."

 

Canton holds his hand out, looking suspicious, and glares when the Doctor injects him. "Ow!"

 

Honestly, it's only a little nanorecorder. It's in the name: nano, little. Also, he lied. "Ha. So, three months. What have we found out?"

 

He makes his way causally over to Rory next, who definitely hasn't figured it out. Does he think that Canton's the only one who is getting an injection, just because he's the newest?

 

Rory dutifully starts reciting what they know. "Well, they are everywhere. Every state in America." He makes a drawn out, pained sound, shaking his hand to take away the sting.

 

The Doctor drops his hands, correcting, "Not just America, the entire world," as he walks by River.

 

Never one to disappoint, River insists upon correcting him back. "There's a greater concentration here, though."

 

She lets him brush right behind her, just the briefest of touches, and doesn't flinch even though she must know they'll all need to be injected. The Doctor very deliberately injects everyone else first, walking around River to get to Amy.

 

Amy holds out her hand but glares at him anyway. Her, "Ow!" is distinctly accusatory.

 

It's as good an opportunity as any to check in on her - he can claim he means the nanorecorder, and Rory is too busy cradling his injured hand and hiding near the safety of River to hover. "Are you okay?"

 

The look Amy gives him very clearly says that she knows what he's asking and that she doesn't think he's being subtle enough. "All better," she manages, sounding troubled.

 

But that doesn't make any sense at all. "Better?" How can one become _all better_ from being pregnant? He watches her closely.

 

After glancing behind him to make sure Rory is out of earshot - so she still hasn't told him, then - Amy confesses, "Turns out I was wrong. I - I'm not pregnant."

 

Oh, his poor Amelia Pond. Trying to be so strong. The Doctor thinks she might tell him what's happened, but then Rory appears. "What's up?" Rory hovers anxiously, obviously seeing Amy's distress.

 

Amy offers a weak smile that doesn't do much to cover the wetness of her eyes, her attention turning to Rory. "Nothing. Really, nothing. Seriously."

 

Canton interrupts, steering them all away from the drama of the nanorecorders and back to the plan. "So you've seen them, but you don't remember them."

 

The Doctor takes the opportunity to drift toward the console, nearer to River, even while he keeps an eye on Amy. There is something wrong, with Amy. Something he can't quite put his finger on. Something to do with her being pregnant and then not.

 

When the Doctor doesn't reply, River gently cuts in. "You've seen them, too. That night at the warehouse, remember? While you were pretending to hunt us down, we saw hundreds of those things. We still don't know what they look like."

 

So River is still one step ahead of everyone - she's already figured out the problem. Her voice lilts oddly when she mentions that they can't remember what The Silence look like, though, and the Doctor moves closer to her, taking the opportunity to test his plan as he tries to figure out whether or not River is lying and what she might be lying about.

 

Rory and Amy seem to have sorted themselves enough to go on because they turn back toward the rest of the console room. Rory, perhaps uniquely predisposed to think about altered memories, muses, "It's like they edit themselves out of your memory as soon as you look away. The exact second you're not looking at them, you can't remember anything."

 

Amy hastily adds, "Sometimes you feel a bit sick, though, but not always," and immediately looks like she regrets saying anything at all.

 

The Doctor retreats to the safety of the console, where he can pretend he's doing something while he watches Amy and Rory as they explain to Canton. There's also the advantage of being near River, who is pulling up data, though she keeps glancing at Amy and Rory when she thinks no one is looking.

 

Canton is piecing it all together, even though he's spent most of the last three months in Area 51 with the Doctor rather than out doing recon with the others. "So that's why you marked your skin."

 

Amy nods. "Only way we'd know if we'd had an encounter."

 

The weight of it is sinking in for Canton, the sheer scope of the problem. "How long have they been here?"

 

Amy sighs - she seems tired. Is that from the three months out in the desert, or is that part of the thing that is wrong? "That's what we've spent the last three months trying to find out."

 

Rory crosses his arms. He's tired too. It's not that, then. "Not easy, if you can't remember anything you discover."

 

Finally, Canton asks the right question. He's always quick to get to the heart of the subject - the Doctor likes that about him. "How long do you think?"

 

The Doctor moves away from the console, interrupting Amy and Rory's half explanations. This is serious. They need to understand. "As long as there's been something in the corner of your eye, or creaking in your house, or breathing under your bed, or voices through a wall. They've been running your lives for a very long time now, so keep this straight in your head." The Doctor holds the nano-gun loosely at his side and waits for River to come around the console while he finishes explaining to Canton what has really happened to Earth. River already knows, he can tell - always one step ahead of him. He's learning, though. And he knows that River will always be by his side when it matters, when it's properly serious. "We are not fighting an alien invasion, we're leading a revolution. And today, the battle begins."

 

"How?" Canton asks, sounding appropriately desolate.

 

"Like this."

 

He catches her by surprise with the nanorecorder. Reaching for her hand innocently, thrilling slightly at the familiarity in how she absently takes his before he presses the trigger. She yelps, genuinely shocked, and then her eyes narrow at his laugh. _Come now_ , he wants to say, _I thought you liked it rough._

 

"Nanorecorder. Fuses with the cartilage in your hand." He goes last, biting back more than a cursory sound because he's expecting it and only a bit to show River up. "And it tunes itself directly to the speech centers in your brain. It'll pick up your voice, no matter what. Telepathic connection. So, the moment you see one of the creatures, you activate it, and describe aloud exactly what you're seeing."

 

He activates the recorder and keeps his eyes on River while the others are distracted, his own voice echoing _and describe aloud exactly what you're seeing_ from the recording.

 

River's got her _he's hot when he's clever_ face on again, which only makes him want to show off more. And, perhaps, drag her back somewhere away from the others and find out what else will make her yelp. Her look in reply says he'll have to try harder than that.

 

Luckily, his mind is excellent at multitasking. "Because the moment you break contact, you're going to forget it happened. The light will flash if you've left yourself a message. You keep checking your hand if you've had an encounter. That's the first you'll know about it."

 

Canton looks confused and then vaguely annoyed. "Why didn't you tell me this before we started?"

 

The Doctor turns briefly to Canton. "I did," then he moves to the console, activating the program he'd started earlier as he continues his verbal explanation to keep them distracted from wondering what he's doing, "but even information about these creatures erases itself over time. I couldn't refresh it because I couldn't talk to you."

 

The Silence stands in front of them. River sees it with the Doctor, and she freezes, watching it very carefully, disgust etched into her face. The creature is tall and thin, in a suit, of all things. Something else it appropriated from humanity as the need arose? It's watching them almost curiously. Completely not threatened. So it wipes their memories the second they blink. What's the good in that? It's awfully hard to keep a human's eyes open for any useful period of time if you want them to do something - or, yes, that would work.

 

Canton turns first, activating his nanorecorder as though he's always done so when faced with The Silence. He learns quickly. "My god! How did it get in here?"

 

Amy and Rory turn next, staring slightly more curiously at the creature. There's a frown on Amy's face. Canton reaches for his gun.

 

The Doctor hastily tries out his new theory before anyone shoots his TARDIS on accident. Out of the corner of his eye, River looks murderous. She hasn't drawn her gun though. She knows it's a hologram, at least. He steps closer to Canton and addresses him when Amy and Rory blink. "Keep eye contact with the creature and, when I say, turn back, and when you do, straighten my bow tie."

 

Canton dutifully turns back and adjusts the Doctor's bowtie, looking confused even as he does so. "What? What are you staring at?"

 

The Doctor does not look away from the creature, trying to etch it into his mind. It looks intelligent, certainly. There's no mouth, which explains the name, and the eyes are set so far back that they look black, but it has a terrifyingly beautiful sort of symmetry to it.

 

River sounds frightened - can that be right? The woman who faced Weeping Angels and Daleks without batting an eye? - as she directs Canton. "Look at your hand."

 

Canton looks down, pressing the recorder as though he can make it go away and then holding up his flashing hand, confused again. "Why is it doing that?"

 

Testing the limits of The Silence, the Doctor reminds him, "What does it mean if the light's flashing? What did I just tell you?"

 

"I haven't-"

 

"Play it," the Doctor orders, cutting off the inevitable protest of disbelief.

 

When Canton presses the button, their conversation of the last minute echoes back over the recorder. Canton slowly turns around as it does, as though he subconsciously knows something is there and doesn't want to look. Fascinating. The Silence make one forget, but then the human self-preservation instinct kicks in and stops one from turning back to look again, which probably is exactly what The Silence want.

 

There's no need for a repeat demonstration, and he imagines the recording would get confusing, so the Doctor explains, "It's a hologram, extrapolated from the photo on Amy's phone. Take a good, long look." He walks back to the console to turn off the image. "You just saw an image of one of the creatures we're fighting." He snaps his fingers to try to trigger their recent memories and immediate responses. "Describe it to me." He snaps his fingers again.

 

Canton is confused again, most of the Doctor's explanation lost to the hologram. "I can't."

 

"No. Neither can I," the Doctor lies easily. He remembers. Well, mostly. He can't quite see the creature clearly, but now that he's focused on remembering it, he can recall their conversation easily enough. River glances down when he says that and it's on the tip of his tongue to ask whether _she_ remembers. But, no, she would have said. And she's only human, after all. How could she? He turns back to Canton. "You straightened my bowtie because I planted the idea in your head while you were looking at the creature."

 

Amy follows him to the console, jumping on his explanation. "So they could do that to people. You could be doing stuff and not really knowing why you're doing it."

 

And, of course, Rory follows Amy. "Like posthypnotic suggestion."

 

"Ruling the world with posthypnotic suggestion?" Amy looks a bit disturbed at the idea, and all right, so it's a bit subtle for a taking over the world plan, he'll give them that.

 

He's been watching River from across the console. She looked a bit ill after The Silence hologram - still does, in fact - perhaps it made her sick, like it had Amy. Or had Amy only been sick because she'd been pregnant? And what about that little girl in the spacesuit - _oh._ "Now then, a little girl in a spacesuit. They got the suit from NASA, but where did they get the girl?"

 

Canton looks horrified at the prospect, or as horrified as Canton ever looks. "It could be anywhere."

 

He doesn't want to look at Amy, doesn't want to think about lost pregnancies and little girls and the strange tension that is suddenly etched in River's face, so he starts narrowing down coordinates based on what they know, which is really quite a lot when his mind has a moment to put it all together. "Except they'd probably stay close to that warehouse because why bother doing anything else? And they'd take her from somewhere that would cause the least amount of attention." He wants River to look at him like he's clever again, but she avoids his gaze, so he continues boldly, "But you'll have to find her. I'm off to NASA."

 

If he expects River to wink and tease him about his secret weapon being a rocket again, he's mistaken. She keeps uncharacteristically silent, head down. The Doctor suddenly wants to take her with him, but there isn't any _room_ inside a rocket, and besides, he has a terrible suspicion that he wouldn't get any work done.

 

Not exactly pleased at being handed what he thinks is an impossible task, Canton regards the Doctor carefully. "Find her? Where do we look?"

 

Suddenly, the Doctor doesn't feel clever at all. He feels as sick as River looks. Because there's a little girl trapped in a spacesuit and nobody came to rescue her. He knows what that - there's only one place to look. "Children's homes."

 

...

 

He does end up taking River with him - he can't resist. They leave Rory to mind the TARDIS while they break into Apollo 11. Well, River breaks into Apollo 11, and the Doctor promptly drops inside, pulling off control panels and starting to fiddle with wiring, pulling a device out of his pocket to incorporate into the video feed.

 

River sits on the ledge of the rocket, leaning inside to watch him work. She's practically draped on top of him in the cramped space. Not that the Doctor minds. "That's the wrong wire. You'll need to use the blue connector if you want to have sound."

 

Okay, maybe he minds a bit, if she's just going to hover there, correcting him. Although he does have a rather delightful view down the front of her dress, where he can see the red marks left from earlier. "It'll work just fine with the yellow - if I patch it through the relay here and adjust the settings here."

 

She reaches around him to start cross connecting her own set of wires. "Not unless you adjust the voltage, and really, Doctor, the blue wire would be simpler."

 

Their hands are all tangled up together in the wiring and River is leaning right across him, her expression all concentration as she bites her lip and digs through the wiring.

 

He wants to kiss her right now. There's nothing to stop him. No one around. No beard. He could just lean forward and kiss her. It's a bit frightening, somehow, and more than a bit distracting. The Doctor knows with complete certainty that he wouldn't stop at kissing River Song, and they really do have to get the video phone adaptor plugged into the shuttle before anyone comes to investigate why the door is open.

 

"Oh, why don't you go check on security or something, and let me work," he grouses, batting her hands away from the wiring and accidentally dropping several bolts and wires on his head in the process.

 

River refocuses her attention on him, smirking. "Why, am I distracting you, Doctor?"

 

She is, and she knows it. "Don't even start," he warns. "There's not enough room for the both of us in here, and I need you by the TARDIS in case the scientists finish their coffee break before I finish the wiring."

 

"I think there's plenty of room, depending what you have in mind," River teases. But she slips back over the ledge of the shuttle anyway. "And you'd have plenty of time if you'd just used the blue wire."

 

"Out," the Doctor growls, pointing with the five wires currently wrapped around his fingers.

  
River laughs and retreats. "All right, sweetie. I'm sure I can find some way to entertain myself while you play with your rocket."

 

The Doctor feels his face heat at the blatant innuendo, but he doesn't have any time to retort before River starts walking down the railing. He pops his head up long enough to watch her saunter away, before shaking his head, taking several deep breaths, and turning back to the task at hand.

 

He absolutely will be finished before the scientists return, and he doesn't need any blue wires. Blue wires are rubbish.

 

…

 

He's elbow deep in Apollo 11's wiring when Amy rings. "Amy?"

 

Amy gets to the point immediately. "I think we've found the place she was taken from."

 

The Doctor almost has the wiring back together but he knows he's running out of time to finish. He can't just ignore Amy though - everything has to be in place. He has to be sure. "How do you know?"

 

He can hear Amy moving about, but he doesn't hear Canton near. Canton had better not have left her alone. Amy's voice is quick and vaguely irritated when she replies, which probably means she's frightened and trying to hide it. "Because those things have been here. But the whole place is deserted. There's just one guy here and I think he's lost it."

 

Oh, Amy. He never should have sent her there. But he has to keep her calm. "Repeated memory wipes fry your head eventually," he acknowledges carefully. "Find out what you can, but don't hang around."

 

Amy just sounds confused. "Where are you?"

 

No time for that. He can hear footsteps that definitely aren't River's. "Got to go. Got company."

 

He disconnects the call, gets the last of the wiring sorted, closes the control panel, and pops upright just as NASA scientists arrive, looking decidedly nonplussed.

 

"Don't worry, I've put everything back the way I found it." It's at that moment the Doctor realizes that he's still holding a connector. "Except this. There's always a bit left over, isn't there?"

 

The scientists are not amused. Neither are the military police that they call to "escort" him back to a lecture hall that seems to be doubling as command central and now tripling as an interrogation room. He does manage to send a quick message to River via his psychic paper before they handcuff him.

 

Really, handcuffs? After they found him inside one of the highest security areas in the country?

 

The two security guards interrogating him alternate between baffled and frustrated as they ask him the same questions in subtly different ways. They don't seem to know what to do with him though, which is good. More time for River to get back. Not that he needs her to rescue him, per say - it's just all part of the plan.

 

Gardner sighs heavily, patience wearing thin with the Doctor's evasions. "Now, one more time, sir. How the hell did you get into the command module?"

 

The Doctor enunciates very carefully as he repeats for perhaps the fourth time, "I told you. I'm on a top secret mission for the President."

 

River should be here shortly, and he doesn't really want to explain the handcuffs. The Doctor brings them to his mouth - if he twists his tongue just right, he should be able to - no, not quite.

 

Now Gardner just sounds amused. Back to disbelief, then. "Well, maybe if you just get President Nixon to assure us of that, sir, that would be swell."

 

The Doctor sits up straighter, giving up on the handcuffs because he can hear the gentle hum of the TARDIS landing, even with the brakes off. "I sent him a message."

 

Perfect timing, as always. The Doctor offers a two handed wave as Nixon walks in, followed by an entirely too smug looking River, and a nervous Rory.

 

To his credit, Tricky Dick immediately makes his way to Gardner, full of jovial smiles and acting as though everything is completely status quo. There's something to be said for keeping good liars on hand. "Hello. I believe it's Mr. Gardner, is that correct? Head of Security?"

 

River has clearly already briefed the President. The Doctor momentarily wishes he could have watched her usher him into the TARDIS. He does love the bit where they say it's bigger on the inside.

 

Gardner falls back on protocol, too flustered to muster any sort of resistance to the surprise appearance of his president. "Er, yes, Sir." He stumbles and corrects himself, "Yes, Mister President."

 

Nixon lets the gaff pass, turning to the other security guard. "Mr. Grant, is it?"

 

Grant has had a bit more time to process, and he gets the response right on the first try, hurrying to suck up and shake the President's hands. "Yes, Mister President."

 

Nixon steamrolls right over their confusion, launching directly into some tidbit from one or another of his political rally speeches. "The hopes and dreams of millions of Americans stand here today at Cape Kennedy, and you're the men who guard those dreams. On behalf of the American people, I thank you."

 

Now the two security guards look to be in a sort of stunned awe. Gardner straightens, suddenly full to bursting with pride. "You're welcome, Mister President."

 

Just the other one left. "I understand you have a baby on the way, Mr. Grant."

 

Oh, River's really very, very good. Grant's eyes go wide as he stutters out, "Yes, Mister President."

 

All congenial charm, Nixon asks, "What are you hoping for, a boy or a girl?"

 

Now that they're apparently on friendly terms with the president, Grant replies easily enough, "Just a healthy American, Sir."

 

Oh, Americans. In the 1960s. The Doctor would roll his eyes if there wasn't a man with a gun standing behind him.

 

Nixon laughs along at the stock response and punches Grant in what is apparently meant to be a friendly gesture before finally getting to the relevant point - which is that someone really needs to undo the Doctor's handcuffs and let him get on with his plan to retake the world from The Silence. "A healthy American will do just nicely. Now, fellows, listen. This man, here, code name the Doctor," they all turn to him and the Doctor waves one hand eagerly in verification, "is doing some work for me personally. Could you cut him a little slack?"

 

Gardner and Grant exchange a nervous, worried look before Gardner manages, "Er, Mister President, he did break in to Apollo 11."

 

Nixon, River and Rory all turn to stare at the Doctor, who mouths, "Sorry."

 

With a shake of his head, Nixon apparently decides to overlook that, though he sounds somewhat less confident now. "Well, I'm sure he had a very good reason for that."

 

River shares a look with Rory that is discretely disbelieving. The Doctor thinks she'd roll her eyes if they weren't surrounded by hostile Americans.

 

Nixon continues blithely, recovering, "But I need you to release him now so he can get on with some very important work for the American people. Could you do that for me?"

 

It's actually Grant that hesitates, "Well-"

 

All the easy familiarity immediately hardens behind Nixon's eyes. He doesn't like having his authority challenged, as history will certainly remember. "Son, I am your Commander in Chief."

 

Gardner steps in quickly. "Then I guess that would be fine, Mister President."

 

Nixon smiles again, but it's tight around the edges - the slight not forgotten. "Glad to hear it." He crosses his arms and taps one hand impatiently when the response is not immediate, and the other two men hurry to motion the military police officer to comply.

 

The military police officer behind the Doctor reaches down immediately and undoes the Doctor's handcuffs.

  
Now that all the tedious politics are taken care of, the Doctor pops up and offers his best American accent. "Thank you. Buhbye." He shakes Grant and Gardner's hands, though they don't put much effort into it, and points gratefully at Nixon before making his way past all of them and toward the TARDIS before anyone can change their minds.

 

He hears Nixon saying, "Carry on, gentlemen," before following him.

 

The Doctor is already at the console by the time River enters. She makes her way past a wide-eyed Nixon until she's close enough to tease quietly, "If you were looking to be handcuffed, sweetie, all you had to do was ask."

 

"Oh, shut up," the Doctor throws back, and River grins at him, even though it's hardly the most witty quip.

 

Rory hurries in, looking nervously behind him at the closed TARDIS doors, and River and the Doctor part reluctantly. "Uh, we should really go."

 

He has to agree with Rory. They need to get Nixon back to the Oval Office and go collect Amy and Canton, and then he has a really very clever plan to show River, and he needs to find just the right place for them all to watch it. The Doctor throws them into the vortex, leaving the brakes on deliberately, just to watch River wrinkle her nose and glare at him.

  
Ah, so it is still River under that ridiculous getup. Her hair is pinned up, which he doesn't like at all, although there is something to be said for her looking so formal and like she very much wants to give him a piece of her mind.

 

Right. As soon as they're all inside the TARDIS and safely inside the vortex, the Doctor starts up the stairs to exit the console room. "With me, River."

 

River's voice is arch and amused. "Was there something you needed, Doctor?"

 

He turns back to see Rory and Nixon watching him avidly and perhaps a bit expectantly. Irritated and flustered that River hadn't just followed him, the Doctor can't quite think of a proper excuse. "No, no. I just have… a thing… to show you... is all."

 

One eyebrow rising sharply, River offers, "It must be a very big, important _thing_ , Doctor." But she steps toward him anyway. "We'll just be a moment."

 

The Doctor tugs at his bowtie, feeling his face and neck heat. He hadn't even meant - he'd just wanted to talk to River alone for a moment, honestly. No, _things_ , involved.

 

River brushes by him, just close enough for certain things to take interest, and the Doctor trips over himself in his haste to follow her.

 

"Rory - keep an eye on Dicky. Don't let him wander off!" the Doctor calls out, only half hearing the grumbled protests from both parties as he quickly turns into the hallway with River.

 

Probably best not to leave Nixon alone on the TARDIS too long. The timelines spread across the Doctor's mind, but really - there's only a 0.003% chance that he'll pick up enough alien technology to take over the world. They've got at least a few minutes before anything goes wrong, he's almost certain.

 

They make it around the nearest corner before River pauses, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed and an eyebrow winged. "You've broken out of Area 51, into Apollo 11, and now you've gone and got yourself arrested. What am I going to do with you, Doctor?"

 

It's probably a good thing she's stopped because the Doctor has no idea where he was planning on going, really. He leans next to her against the wall, smirking up at her from under his fringe. "Lots of things, I hope." He really did just mean to talk with her, but now that they're alone and River's being all seductive and authoritarian, he finds his mind drifting back to the pool, and talking is suddenly less important.

 

River twists, deceptively fast, until she's pinning him to the wall. "Things, hmm?" She is pressed tight against him, her hand slipping between them to cup him through his trousers. "Wasn't there something you wanted to show me?"

 

He's already hard and aching just at the thought of all those curves pressed against him, the memory of her naked and wet in the pool and the shower. He might never be able to get enough of her, now that he's had a taste. "I lied," he admits.

 

"You've been a bad boy, Doctor," River purrs, the sound sending his hearts into overdrive. "Lucky for you, I've always liked a bad boy."

 

She has undone his trousers and taken him in hand before he's fully realized what she's doing. A choked noise makes its way out of his throat, and River just smirks, eyes sparkling at him. He should kiss her here, he thinks. There's no beard to stop him. No wires to fix. Only he's not quite sure where to start. One does not just kiss River Song without a plan. Maybe if he bent forward just slightly…

 

But River sinks to her knees in front of him before he can make up his mind. He barely has a moment to process the vision of her there before she shifts forward and slides her lips over the head of his cock, hollowing her cheeks and sucking.

 

The Doctor finds himself making a sound somewhere between a squeak and a whimper as River swirls her tongue around him and swallows him whole. He reaches for her, hands just brushing her hair when River pulls away, the cool TARDIS air replacing her warm mouth as she slaps his hands away from her.

 

"Hands off my hair," she admonishes with a glare, and the Doctor nods hurriedly, willing to agree to just about anything so long as she goes back to what she was doing. He wonders if River realizes how easily she has him at her complete mercy every time she touches him.

 

The wet heat of her mouth sliding around him is even more blissful after its absence, and the Doctor can only flail his hands in midair before he finally manages to press them into tight fists at his side to keep from reaching for River again.

 

River's hands pin his hips to the wall, her fingers skimming under his untucked shirt to trace across his bare skin, each stroke branding him like fire. He's not even undressed, again, and he doesn't know whether to be thankful or annoyed at River's impatience and skill.

 

Definitely thankful, he decides, as she presses her tongue against the ridge of his cock. She takes him in to the root, his tip nudging her throat in a way that sends a shiver of pleasure coursing through his entire body. He has to bite his tongue to keep from making a very undignified noise, squeezing his eyes shut.

 

It doesn't matter, he can still see her swollen lips sliding over his cock in his mind, even with his eyes closed, and he's not going to last long at all at this rate.

 

River's rhythm is slow and intense. She pauses to suckle at his head, her tongue teasing the crown, before slowly engulfing him again, leaving the Doctor gasping and whimpering under her talents.

 

There's a chirp, and he dimly realizes he's clenching his hands so hard he's activated the nanorecorder, but he can't be bothered to care, not when River picks up the pace, swallowing around his cock every time she takes him all the way into her mouth.

 

He opens his eyes to watch her, which is a mistake because the vision of her smirk stretched around his cock and the challenge in her eyes when they meet his is simply too much when combined with the sweet, sucking pressure of her mouth. The Doctor feels his whole body tensing and tightening.

  
River's eyes flash as her teeth scrape just slightly over him and the sharp pain trips him over the edge, spilling into River's throat with a rough shout as his whole body trembles with pleasure and his vision goes dark.

 

The Doctor slouches back against the wall, cracking open one eye - he doesn't remember closing them - in time to watch River release him, sitting back on her heels and licking at her swollen lips with a pleased smirk as she captures the last drops of him.

 

He reaches down to help her to her feet. "That was-" the Doctor halts, his voice low and scratchy, at a loss for words. This whole day has been very… unexpected, but interesting, and neither of those words really describe it at all. There might not _be_ words to describe what he feels this close to River Song.

 

River sways closer still. "Oh, I know." She turns his hand over in hers and presses his palm twice until the nanorecorder lights up with a message and then dims again. "And I expect a copy of that recording."

 

It's hard to tell with how flushed he already feels, but the Doctor is sure he's blushing anyway. He's going to kiss her, now, though, and she's going to taste like him. The Doctor slides his hand around to unbutton her jacket, bending toward her, eyes on her lips.

 

There's an abrupt jolt and they stumble into each other, his chin bumping River's nose and her elbow catching him in the side.

 

"DOCTOR! RIVER! President Nixon is threatening to drive himself home and, uh, he's really quite insistent…"

 

River pulls back with a sigh, rubbing her nose. "We'd best get back there before the TARDIS takes offense or Rory decides to come find us."

 

The Doctor catches her wrist before she can escape. "What about you?"

 

"I'll keep. I'm sure you'll more than make it up to me later."

 

She frees her wrist and redoes the buttons to her jacket, eyeing him pointedly until the Doctor realizes his trousers are still undone, and hurries to tuck himself away and fasten them back up. "You can count on it, River Song."

 

River is already touching up her lipstick and smoothing her dress, and where was she keeping the lipstick? "Oh, I will." She smacks her lips to smooth the paint and gives him a flirtatious wink as she disappears back around the corner toward the console room.

 

"Don't forget, Doctor."


End file.
